


Search Yourself

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Funny, Lingerie, One Shot, Sex Toys, throwaway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 15:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15512769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Just a short drabble about Steve Rogers and his awkward delve into the interwebz.





	Search Yourself

You shook the pen in your hand, rattling it as you swore. You should have hung the calendar after. _Oh well, you lived and you learned._ You retraced the last letter and flipped the page, referring to the notebook you had scribbled in for reference.

“Um, hey,” Steve sounded confused as he entered, “What’s that?”

“A calendar,” You answered, eyeing Bucky and Sam as they followed behind him, “I discussed with Tony and he said it was great idea. We can write down chores and important events.” You shook the pen again and hissed, “Right now, I’m just marking birthdays.”

“Birthdays?” Bucky stepped up beside Steve, “How do you know my birthday? You didn’t ask me.”

You shared a look with Sam who grinned beside them. The two twentieth-century soldiers still afloat in the new millenia. You shook your head and flipped to the next month. “I’ve shown you how to use Google already. Maybe you should actually start doing it on your own.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky muttered guiltily, “But…won’t people see what I search for?”

“What exactly are you looking for?” Sam mused.

“I value my privacy,” Bucky snapped, “And nothing. I just…don’t trust this Google. She makes me nervous.”

“‘She?’” You raised a brow, “Google is just a search engine. It hasn’t the sentience to have a gender.”

“Not yet,” Bucky said, “But sooner or later it’s going to take all that information your putting into it and it’s going to achieve consciousness.”

“What the–” You lowered your arm, stretching it out as the muscles strained from the awkwardness of your writing, “That’s weird, Bucky.”

“He’s been watching a lot of sci-fi,” Sam smirked.

“No, you’ve been watching all those movies and I’ve been trying to live my life without existential fear and now I have to worry about the phone in my pocket re-programming me,” Bucky accused.

Your mind was drawn from the odd squabbling to Steve who was fiddling with his phone. He rarely attempted to use it but he was diligently typing, oddly proud as he held the screen out and stared. “I did it. I Googled myself.”

“Oh no, don’t–” Sam turned to Steve, “You’re not suppose to Google yourself. It’s kinda a dick move.”

“What? I just want to know what Google thinks of me.”

“For the last time, Google doesn’t think. It’s merely an online encyclopedia programmed to look up what your need.” You explained with exasperation.

“Wi-ki-pe-di-a,” Steve sounded out, “Oh wow, how does it know that? Who wrote this?”

“Take it with a grain of salt, Steve,” You sighed, “That’s your starting point but you can do better.”

“Okay,” He continued to move his finger around the screen, “What are thirst tweets?”

“Ignore that,” You demanded, “Trust me, you’ll regret it.”

“Right,” He continued to scroll, “Oh, a novelty shop.” He smiled as he waited for the page to load but his face immediately paled and his mouth fell open. Slowly, a subtle shade of pink washed over him. You neared and his cheeks turned scarlet as he pressed the phone to his chest. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, what did you press?”

“Yeah, Steve, show her,” Sam was chuckling under his breath, having peeked over Steve’s shoulder.

With a frown, Steve turned the phone to you and showed you the giant red, white, and blue dildo staring back. You covered your mouth, trying to hold in your laughter. You cleared your throat and lowered your hand, “Well, novelties today are a bit more niche.”

“It’s just a dildo, Steve,” Bucky shrugged.

“Just a–” Steve squeaked, “They’ve corrupted you. And I don’t care if they exist but do they have to be Captain America themed?”

“There’s a lot of freaks out there,” You shrugged.

“Modelled after Steve Rogers himself?” He furrowed his brow as he read, “What the–No, no. That’s not what it looks like.”

“Thanks for the visual, Steve,” Sam scoffed.

The first avenger continued to scroll and you cringed. “Maybe you should just go back.”

“Star and spangle nipple clamps? Who would ever–”

“Go back, Steve.”

“Captain’s Cock Ring?” 

“Go back–” 

“What’s a butt plug?”

“For the love of God, Steve, go back.”

“They have a costume section, too,” Bucky pointed and Steve clicked.

“That’s not practical,” Steve mused, “You can see…it all. Lace is not a protective material and those boots.”

“Nope, nope,” You grabbed the phone before he could scroll any further. You closed the app and sighed.  “You can go about your online excursions elsewhere. I have to finish this.” You handed back his phone and turned to the calendar, “And you perverts can do that in private like normal human beings.”

“We aren’t normal, we’re super soldiers,” Bucky asserted.

“Super or not, please no more,” You ordered and returned to your dates.

Silence permeated the room as you tried to ignore them, waiting for them to leave. At last you looked over as you finished August and Bucky was now on his phone. Sam was grinning devilishly as he looked over his shoulder and Steve was glancing over cautiously.

“I thought you didn’t trust that thing?” You sneered.

“Why does Google correct my name to ‘Fucky Barnes’?” He looked up with concern.

“Please, don’t press enter.” You pleaded.

Slowly, he lowered his thumb until it touched the screen and he grinned. You huffed, looking to Sam who was too enthralled in this unnerving scene of self-discovery.

“Fanfiction?” Bucky read, “What’s that?…’Bucky Barnes NSFW fic.’”

“Right, I am not going down this rabbit hole with you lot,” You declared, capping your pen, “This can be done later and you,” You gathered up your notebook and made to pass them, “Don’t come to me after you’ve traumatized yourself on the internet.”

You marched out the door and hid behind your notebook, trying not to giggle. You really hoped they didn’t go too far but it had been rather funny. You were only glad that your blog was under a pseudonym.


End file.
